Just an act
by TooManyColours
Summary: Mike/Scott slash. Is this just another performance by the great Scottie Favor? Mike's thoughts during the scene when the police are looking for Bob.  Rated T for language and sexually suggestive themes  non-explicit


Hi Guys!

This is my first ever fanfic and I'm pretty new around here, although I've been reading fanfiction for ages! As you've probably guessed, I'm a huge MOPI fan. Looking through the Mike/Scott fics I noticed that there isn't a single one that shows what Mike might have been feeling during that scene when the police come looking for Bob and things get...intimate to say the least. So, I decided to take a shot at writing one! Yes, it IS slash, but I've tried to make it as non-explicit as possible and maintain the sweetness and almost innocence of Mike's love for Scott - River Phoenix crafted a beautifully deep, vulnerable and very sweet character in Mike, so I didn't want to ruin that. Hope you guys like it, please R/C.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own any rights to My Own Private Idaho, etc (But man I wish I did!)

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_Passing through unconscious states,  
When I awoke, I was on the highway,  
Highway, highway, highway…_

_With your hand on my shoulder,  
__A meaningless movement,  
__A movie-script ending…_

_Passing through unconscious states,  
__When I awoke, I was on  
__The onset of a later stage,  
__The headlights are beacons on the highway.  
__ ** - A Movie Script Ending, **_**Death Cab For Cutie**

**_Just an act..._**

This doesn't mean anything. This is nothing. When it's over it will be as if this had never happened at all.

Well, that's what Scottie wants anyways. Everything we're doing right now, it doesn't mean shit to him. But to me this is more. It's a rare moment of ecstasy.

I'm lying under the thick red blanket with Scott perched on top of me in the sort of way that a lion stands over his prey. We're both fully aware of the cops and the Sheriff standing in the doorway, no doubt watching in shock with smug looks on their self-righteous, fucked up faces. And that's what Scottie wants. He wants to shock them all, including his parents. And Scott Favor always gets what he wants.

As Scott cries out in faux-pleasure, writhing and thrashing on top of me dramatically, his thick mop of charcoal hair falls into my face, tickling my nose and brushing against my lips. I shudder and supress a whimper of pleasure. For a moment I allow myself to believe that this could mean something. I'm carried away by the thought that we're really alone – no smirking cops, no dogs barking – but I quickly draw myself back into reality.

No, this is just another one of Scott Favor's performances, a demonstration of his new life out on the streets. This is about getting a one-up on his father, not about me. Besides, how could someone like Scottie – beautiful, dark-eyed, Scott Favor, son of the mayor of Portland and the most captivating person I've ever met – ever love a dirty, narcoleptic, gay street kid like me who sells their ass for a living?

I turn my head to the side as Scott continues crying "Baby, yeah…" and gyrating his hips. I can feel his hot breath on the now-exposed flesh of my neck. His lips brush against this sensitive area for the tiniest moment and my body threatens to have another of my "episodes" from the chilling sensation. Instead, I let a moan escape from my lips, unable to restrain myself any longer. What does it matter anyways? Scottie will just think that I'm playing along in his little show, aiding his performance – I'm just a supporting character.

The moaning gets louder and Scott moves his entire body faster while I continue to groan and whimper. I even permit myself to wrap one arm around his waist and grab at his warm, smooth back. It can't do any harm, and a moment like this one might never come again, so I might as well enjoy it. Even though we're still half-dressed and not doing anything more than dry-humping, really, it feels right having Scott so close, his skin on mine and his hot breath on my neck. I gasp and try to forget why he's doing this and just enjoy myself while I can. Yeah, it's kind of sick when you think about it, but right now I don't want to think. I just want to pull him closer to me and never ever let go.

Arching his back with my hands still clasped around him, Scott moans "Wait, wait, wait…wait, wait" and pauses for a moment, his waist pressed hard against my hips. Suddenly I'm being smothered by the thick red blanket bunched up in my face, Scottie's arms leaning on the mattress next to me. We're both panting, but I stay silently hidden as Scott talks shit to the cops.

"Aha! What have we here?"

"Pardon me Mr Favor…"

They proceed to talk shit about Bob, but I can only just hear them, as if they're way off in the distance. I struggle to maintain consciousness as every stifled cry, every supressed breath, brings me closer to the onset of another fit.

No, no, no, Mikey, you useless fuck! Don't you dare spaz out now!

As much as I hate that Scott is only doing this to make a point to the cops, I don't want to spoil this for him. How could he possibly know what this means to me? He would never guess how much this hurts, so I almost feel guilty for my pain. What can I say – Favor's always have their way.

Suddenly, Scott flicks the blanket off of me in a red haze, exposing both out bare chests. This wakes me up a little and I listen silently as Scott talks about Bob to the two cops. Hah, "Fat as butter" is right – As much as I love the guy, I still can't help but feel a slight pang of resentment towards Pigeon, what with his fling with Scott a while back and all…

Scott's touching my chest, playing with my nipple. I gently slap his hand away, more to be sure not to give away how much I'm really enjoying it than anything. When he persists, I tap his hand once more, this time just to feel the touch of his hand on mine, really. Through half-close eye-lids I see the tiniest smile at the corner of his mouth and eyes. Maybe it's the coke from earlier, maybe it's the looming narcoleptic fit, but for a second I manage to fool myself into thinking Scott was enjoying lying here so close to me. I can feel his slender fingers running through my tangled hair, sending shivers straight down my spine and almost making my toes curl like a fifteen year old girl…

"So, could you leave us alone?"

Hearing Scott's voice drop into this gentle, seductive tone is more than I can bear. The second the cops and the sheriff are out the door and Scott tries to sit up, I grab him by the neck and drag him back down, showering his lips and neck in soft kisses. I don't care what he does after this; all I want is to feel his lips on mine for at least a fleeting moment. I brace myself for the protests that are sure to come out of Scott's mouth any second now, but they never do.

I pause for a second and look him in the eyes – Oh God! Those deep, chocolate eyes are just so perfect – with curiosity evident on my face. Scotty smiles at me, then lowers him face to meet mine for another embrace.

Maybe Scotty Favor wasn't putting on an act this time, after all…

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_**A/N:**_ So that's it! I really hope you liked it and please please please leave constructive criticism so that my next fic will be even better (yeah, there will most likely be more MOPI stuff from me soon, if I get the time!) Thanks for reading


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